The chair left out in the garden night all winter
Sits waiting for the summer day all night.
The insides of the metal arms are frozen.
Over the house the night sky wheels and turns
All winter long even behind the day.
When I visit the Poetry Publication Showcase, an annual display of the year’s new poetry books at Poets House in Manhattan, I feel as if I’ve been granted a precious audience with Poetry itself.
After Troy
Not quite putting on what little power or knowledge
pigeons lay claim to, she nonetheless bids them come.
Launched off cornices,
The Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize of $10,000, awarded annually for the most outstanding book of poems published in the United States by an American, is administered mutually by the A
Marilyn Hacker
“Does the imagination dwell the most/Upon a woman won or woman lost?” Yeats asked. For most of his readers and biographers, the answer has been clear: a woman lost.
W.H. Auden observed that biographies “are always superfluous and usually in bad taste,” but Edward Mendelson’s book on him, Later Auden, is neither.